


standing still

by LocketShoru



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: AAverse, Baby!Albafica, Fluff, Oneshot, Other, Slice of Life, he's like six months old and Adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocketShoru/pseuds/LocketShoru
Summary: Lugonis thinks, or rather he knows, that his spouse is beautiful, and his son is adorable. He could pick a million nights to demonstrate this point to another, but he prefers to just experience them, and never quite stop.
Relationships: Pisces Lugonis/Pisces Surplice
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	standing still

**Author's Note:**

> See, this is what I was _trying_ to write when I wrote Cosmonaut, and then Cosmonaut told me it was gonna be something else. Then Lugonis was all like "hey you're writing standing still now anyway, and I'm narrating it because I don't use the word 'tassets' for their hips and you have to deal with trying to explain what it feels like when I kiss them" and I was like "ok sure you beautiful bastard" and here we are. Yeah.

The herbs released a sharp scent as they were cut, methodically and even-sized, and it was thankfully enough of a habit he didn’t really have to focus to ensure they were correctly sliced. The gentle chop of the kitchen knife was rhythmic enough to be soothing. He finished the batch and pushed it aside with the knife, reaching for another pile of herbs to be cut.

Two feet away, beside him, Pisces was stirring up a mug of a magic-infused drink from the morning’s work, adding spices to their recipe and cooing affectionately at their shared son, who was seated much like a small sack of potatoes on the counter, indeterminate baby-blue eyes wide and reaching for the drink. Pisces was making a game of keeping it away from his small, plump hands, cooing at him and keeping his attention as they made up the drink.

Lugonis had to smile, watching the two, allowing his mind to wander from his actual task. Pisces’ Cosmos was sparkling with joy, Albafica’s much smaller but still strong with amusement at the game. Pisces reached past him to take the bottle of a rarely-used spice, dusting a little bit in and stirring it up.

“Done?” Lugonis asked, eyeing the mug. Pisces nodded.

“Done,” they confirmed. “It should last about… a fortnight? If it does not separate, that is. Albafica is not the only minnow who needs this, much as I wish to keep it just for him. Spoon, please…” They held out a glove, and he nodded, opening the drawer at his hip for a tablespoon, handing it over.

They measured out just enough to fill the tablespoon without a single drop over, lifting it up to where their six-month-old child could see it. He reached for it, eyes wide and interested.

“Abah-bwa,” Albafica said, leaning forward, his Cosmos indicating bright, strong interest, eyes focused on the tablespoon.

“Here comes the little fishy,” Pisces answered him, singsong, putting the spoon into his mouth. Albafica pulled away, mouth closing around the spoon, and Lugonis knew taking the spoon away from him was going to take effort. The child swallowed anyway, pushing a sharp, delighted whistle out of the gills on both sides of his neck, almost like a dolphin. It tugged at Lugonis’ heartstrings, demanding he give him more of it.

He reached over, taking the mug away from the two before either of his parents succumbed to the idea. Albafica stared at him, looking momentarily upset.

“Not a chance, minnow,” he answered, smiling. “You can sing, but I can’t just give you more.” They were pushing it enough, giving him a full tablespoon at six months, and the effects were already making themselves blatant. Albafica’s ear-tips, once blunted when they had first found him, were sharply pointed, scales the same blue colour that his hair was slowly turning tracing the outside of his earlobes. His skin had started to glisten like scales, pink undertones mixing into a dark, cold blue. Even his pupils had started to shift, circular to more slitted. It wouldn’t be much longer now before he was a full-fledged siren, capable of things Lugonis could only dream of.

Pisces scooped Albafica up, tucking him carefully against their breastplate, reaching for the spoon still in his mouth and giving an experimental tug. It didn’t budge. They sighed, their Cosmos a twitch of amusement, and tugged at the spoon again. Albafica didn’t let go, preferring to let his mother lift him right out of their arms rather than release the spoon.

“No, my Albafica, let go, now,” they said, and their voice was soft and musical and relaxed. They leaned up against the counter, the moonlight coming through the window and setting their every plate into a shining perfection. For a moment, he forgot entirely about his actual task, that Luco was absolutely going to be angry with him over if he didn’t complete it, taking the moment instead to admire the two as Pisces determinedly tried to get Albafica to release the spoon so they could put him to bed. 

Albafica let out a whistle, Cosmos stubborn and playful, blond-turning-blue eyebrows furrowed in the determination that he was _not_ going to let go. 

“No, my Alba,” Pisces said, again, and there was a note of music to it, a hint of command. Lugonis dropped the knife, even though the command hadn’t been meant for him. Albafica let go, dropping an inch back into their arm, looking petulant. He paused, glancing down at the cutting board, realizing the knife was no longer in his hand. Such was the life lived alongside two sirens whose very voices could make him a marionette without even trying.

“Should put him to bed, it’s late enough,” Lugonis remarked, and Pisces nodded, looking up at him. He stepped over, slipping an arm around the metal skirt of their hips, and lead them back to their room, grabbing Albafica’s bottle on the way. He reached upon sight of it, one hand hanging onto Pisces’ chest and babbling, his voice more musical than most children of his age. It tugged at Lugonis, and he smiled, handing over the bottle to his son. Pisces stepped closer to him, leaning their head on his shoulder. Almost automatically, he pressed a kiss to the metal, easing his step to match theirs, leading them back to their room.

Pisces stepped across the threshold first, placing Albafica gently in his crib and pulling the blanket overtop of him. He cradled his bottle close, a trill in his gills that quite clearly was a demand for more blankets, his favourite request at bedtime when it wasn’t hoping for more of his bedtime drink. Lugonis crossed the room to the coathook, lifting Pisces’ silver cape from the hook and sweeping it over the crib. Pisces’ Cosmos twitched in amusement and slight irritation.

“He is going to drool all over it, and I will make you wash it,” they said, not looking up at him as Albafica tugged it up to his chin.

“You have five capes, and if he wants to snuggle it, I see no reason why he shouldn’t. You know without it he’s not going to fall asleep for ages.” He leaned over and blew out the candle at the nightstand, a foot away from the crib, leaving them in nothing but moonlight. Pisces flickered in concession of this fact, and he felt their gloves slip around his hips, pulling him back into their chest, sliding one glove around his stomach. The metal of their hand was warm against him, and he smiled, leaning back into their shoulder. 

“We still have some work to finish up,” he reminded them, tilting his chin up and kissing them. Technically, he was only kissing the air inside their helmet, but they had a way of making it almost solid, like velvet under his touch with a bit of give to it. It was still more real than anything else, and they lead him backward by his hips back into the kitchen, kissing him all the while, setting stars in his heart and butterflies in his stomach.

They pushed him up against the counter, letting him turn around enough to press their his chest to theirs, and their lips never quite left his, tangling a glove into his hair, undoing the ponytail and letting it hang loose around his biceps. His hands cupped either side of their face, avoiding the fins a bit farther back, and allowed the kiss to deepen.

It wasn’t quite wet, and it didn’t quite feel like static electricity, but it was still addicting. They broke it just long enough to allow him a breath, almost a purr in their voice, and they caught him again open-mouthed, one glove drifting down his side and around the gills on his ribs to his hip, holding him in place as they kissed him. 

Lugonis broke the kiss, finding his breath heavy and most of the blood in his body either in his cheeks or his crotch. “I love you,” he whispered, slipping his hands around their hips, feeling the rivets of the band around the back, pulling them into him, letting them press their face into the soft part of his neck, just below the gills. They cuddled into him, pushing his hair out of their way, taking the moment to rest against him. 

“I love you, too,” they murmured, and he rubbed his thumb against the small of their back, letting them lean up against him. There was something awfully nice about the way their metal reflected the moonlight, bathing them in a soft, silvery-violet glow, almost ethereal and reminding him of just what they were. Divine, much more than he. Godly, absolutely. 

It had been months since he’d last talked them into unmerging with their kamui and standing before him as they truly were, but there wasn’t time for something like that, and he knew it took energy to do, especially twice. He kissed their temple, tracing a hand up their spine. He already had every plate and curve and rivet memorized. It didn’t make it any less intoxicating.

“Cici,” he said, softly, and their Cosmos twitched into attention from whatever they had been thinking about. 

“Mm?” They didn’t move from their position, face still buried in his neck, arms around him and relaxed.

“Albafica’s hair is turning blue because yours is blue, right?” He leaned back a little more, resting his weight against the counter. Pisces was beautiful as a surplice, and in their true form, he could understand exactly what made them the god of vengeful death, the siren who didn’t even need to use their voice to pull every seaman to his death. The only reason he had been able to love them and survive was because he could breathe water, if he opened his gills.

“I will admit I did not expect him to do that, but I believe so,” they answered, after a moment. “He is shifting into traits that resemble both of us - just because my features are more different than what he had before does not mean he is not also mirroring you. His eyes and cheeks are all yours, and the placement of his fins are nothing like mine.”

Heat rose to his cheeks, a little. Pisces was right, now that he thought about it - but it was also true that he hadn’t been looking for himself at all in the child, only his spouse, who didn’t look a bit human in their original form. On one hand, it was glorious to see, on the other, it made him so much harder to hide, if anything went wrong.

“Is he going to be divine, like you?” The thought was past his mouth by the time he realized what he’d said, but now that it hung out in the air in front of him, it was a question he probably did need to ask.

“I do not believe so,” they answered. “I used Cosmos, and only Cosmos. It remembers what I am supposed to be, a siren, but not that I am divine. This is not the time nor place for demigods, much as I wish it might have been. He will be a siren, but he will keep your mortality.”

“Last I checked, most monsters like him had lifespans of thousands of years.”

“And do not get up again when they die, though it takes them millennia. They are still required to be somewhat careful. He is not as easily breakable as you are, my love, and in this case, that is a strength.”

His eyebrows furrowed in response and he pulled them a slight bit more into him, finding his grip tighter against them instinctively. They brushed a kiss across his gills in response, a hum against his skin as a reminder to relax. They weren’t going anywhere, even though the old fear that they could be taken away from him still ached. He heavily disliked the memory. That didn’t mean it was any less real, and years away from it didn’t make it quite stop hurting.

“Peace, my Lugonis,” they murmured, with a slight emphasis on the pronoun. “I am not going anywhere.” 

“You’d better not,” he answered, lifting a hand to grasp their chin so they would look up at him, and then kissed them. Slow and deep and meant to be reassuring that he wasn’t going anywhere either. They returned it, slipping their arms around his hips and leaning a bit onto their toes, giving them just enough of a height advantage to tilt him over the countertop. They were only an inch and a half taller than he was, entirely thanks to the fact that their boots were heeled. They were meant to fit him perfectly as an armour, personality aside. 

They broke the kiss after a few moments, long after he’d opened his gills to breathe that way so he didn’t have to stop. When he opened his eyes, about to protest, they were standing in a half-glamour, just enough of an illusion to mimic their original form, all dark olive skin and hair the green-blue colour of the sea, curling and waved around their helmet. 

“I am not going anywhere you cannot follow, my Lugonis,” they said, gently, with just enough steel behind their tone to mark their certainty. “You never need fear that again.”

One corner of his mouth twitched upward, and he reached up to stroke their cheek with his thumb, feeling the illusion real under his touch. “We should at least finish all of this,” he murmured, glancing slightly back to the unfinished herbs he had been cutting earlier. “Then you can kiss me until I can’t so much as think about a time when you’re not touching me, and all will be well.”

Pisces’ answer was to smile, flashing the five rows of shark’s teeth that they shared. It was not a nice smile, but it was a kind one. It promised danger and adventure and in warmth like a hurricane. It was the one they never gave anyone else, and he felt like the luckiest mortal man in the world, and he knew that one, at least, to be truer than light.


End file.
